***
9
***
A tangled, snarling mass of bone and fur landed on Mullins' chest, and the man went down to the accompaniment of a shrill canine shriek. The pirate rolled to his feet and the animal struck the ground with a dull thud, a spatter of blood spilling from the knife wound in its ribs. The beast danced away from the man to cower snarling, splay legged and trembling at the edge of the group. Its brothers looked at each other warily and pranced out of range of Mullins' bloody dagger.
From the trees came a crack and a tree branch slammed bluntly into the side of the smaller wolf, wringing a yelp and a lunge towards its assailant, but Billy moved out of the way. These were clumsy wolves, weak wolves, starving in a forest where the game was abundant, and Billy Jukes had broken the circle and spun back to back with Mullins, wielding the length of wood as a club.
Slightly dropped down to the forest floor and dug his hands into the earth, pulling a barely exposed stone loose from its setting and pushing himself into the air. The stone was fat and cold in his hands and he covered the short distance between boy and wolves, the sound of Mullins' shouting and the crack of wood against a lupine skull flooding through the trees.
Billy raised the branch to block the wolf's jaws as he saw its paws leave the ground, its fanged maw snapping open as it came, but before those jaws could close there came a shriek and its body twisted in the air, slamming into Billy broadside and knocking him back into Mullins. The bloodied stone bounced once on the dirt and the wolf was sprinting before it settled to earth, the arch of its right brow shattered into its skull and something wet and red dribbling into its mouth.
Both pirates turned to stare at the third beast, who dropped its chimney brush tail and crashed into the bushes without a moment's hesitation.
Slightly alighted silently beside Billy and with a quick exchange of glances confirmed that yes, they were okay. Mullins kept a wary eye after the wolves.
"Ye alright, Billy?" Mullins asked, wiping the bloodied knife off on his trouser leg. Mullins looked a sight. The wolf's blood had splattered out over his chest where his knife had stopped the animal's lunge, and there was a heavy blotch of muted black over his left temple and brow; an impressive bruising.
When Mullins finally turned to them he startled. When he stalked to the wolf there had been only one boy, but now Billy Jukes did not stand alone in the circle of paw prints; another boy, a Lost Boy, stood at his side. He took a moment to dredge the name out of his memory.
"Where'd he come from?" Mullins asked, keeping the knife at a ready level.
"It's alright. He's my friend." Billy said. Slightly looked at him with surprise, but then, of course, it didn't matter anymore.
"Your friend?" Putting the dagger back in his sash he frowned, but Mullins was anything but stupid. "For how long?"
"Months."
He'd expected Mullins to be surprised, or at the very least angry, but though he didn't look pleased at the situation, he didn't look like Billy was about to lose another tooth, either. Billy wasn't sure just what that meant. It made him nervous.
"What happened to your face?" he asked quickly.
"Same thing 's happened to yours." Mullins said. "After you escaped Hook was madder than a wet hen and set off to find you. He's still looking. Got Starkey and Mason out there with him like a pair of rat dogs." He looked over Slightly critically. The boy felt sure he was being sized up and pulled himself up straighter. "They aren't the only ones lookin' for you. I ran into a pair out working for the blighted fairies."
"You what?"
"I told em to mind their own business, but that wasn't the last I saw of em. They say…" he hitched his thumbs in his sash and stared down at Slightly. "They say yer traveling with a ghoul."
"It's slightly not me!" the boy blurted immediately. Billy didn't move. His color was slowly fading down to that of wood ash.
"Why not you? It certainly explains a lot about you Lost Boys!" The knife was out. Slightly jerked back. "Certainly explains EVERYTHING about Peter Pan."
Slightly, unarmed, took to the air. "Don't talk about Peter! He hasn't got anything to do with this!" He shouted back, shuddered by memories of Peter with blood on his tongue.
"It's not Slightly." Billy interjected hoarsely. He hadn't moved. His eyes stared at the same patch of earth and his tendons looked ready to snap with the strain of staying still.
"Whaddaya mean it's not him?" He looked at the boy. "Who else are you with?"
Billy shook his head slowly. "No one."
"Then who?"
Billy looked up, startled. He was going to have to say it. Mullins understood the frightened, pained look is Billy's gaze a moment before the words left his mouth.
"It's me."
9
***
A tangled, snarling mass of bone and fur landed on Mullins' chest, and the man went down to the accompaniment of a shrill canine shriek. The pirate rolled to his feet and the animal struck the ground with a dull thud, a spatter of blood spilling from the knife wound in its ribs. The beast danced away from the man to cower snarling, splay legged and trembling at the edge of the group. Its brothers looked at each other warily and pranced out of range of Mullins' bloody dagger.
From the trees came a crack and a tree branch slammed bluntly into the side of the smaller wolf, wringing a yelp and a lunge towards its assailant, but Billy moved out of the way. These were clumsy wolves, weak wolves, starving in a forest where the game was abundant, and Billy Jukes had broken the circle and spun back to back with Mullins, wielding the length of wood as a club.
Slightly dropped down to the forest floor and dug his hands into the earth, pulling a barely exposed stone loose from its setting and pushing himself into the air. The stone was fat and cold in his hands and he covered the short distance between boy and wolves, the sound of Mullins' shouting and the crack of wood against a lupine skull flooding through the trees.
Billy raised the branch to block the wolf's jaws as he saw its paws leave the ground, its fanged maw snapping open as it came, but before those jaws could close there came a shriek and its body twisted in the air, slamming into Billy broadside and knocking him back into Mullins. The bloodied stone bounced once on the dirt and the wolf was sprinting before it settled to earth, the arch of its right brow shattered into its skull and something wet and red dribbling into its mouth.
Both pirates turned to stare at the third beast, who dropped its chimney brush tail and crashed into the bushes without a moment's hesitation.
Slightly alighted silently beside Billy and with a quick exchange of glances confirmed that yes, they were okay. Mullins kept a wary eye after the wolves.
"Ye alright, Billy?" Mullins asked, wiping the bloodied knife off on his trouser leg. Mullins looked a sight. The wolf's blood had splattered out over his chest where his knife had stopped the animal's lunge, and there was a heavy blotch of muted black over his left temple and brow; an impressive bruising.
When Mullins finally turned to them he startled. When he stalked to the wolf there had been only one boy, but now Billy Jukes did not stand alone in the circle of paw prints; another boy, a Lost Boy, stood at his side. He took a moment to dredge the name out of his memory.
"Where'd he come from?" Mullins asked, keeping the knife at a ready level.
"It's alright. He's my friend." Billy said. Slightly looked at him with surprise, but then, of course, it didn't matter anymore.
"Your friend?" Putting the dagger back in his sash he frowned, but Mullins was anything but stupid. "For how long?"
"Months."
He'd expected Mullins to be surprised, or at the very least angry, but though he didn't look pleased at the situation, he didn't look like Billy was about to lose another tooth, either. Billy wasn't sure just what that meant. It made him nervous.
"What happened to your face?" he asked quickly.
"Same thing 's happened to yours." Mullins said. "After you escaped Hook was madder than a wet hen and set off to find you. He's still looking. Got Starkey and Mason out there with him like a pair of rat dogs." He looked over Slightly critically. The boy felt sure he was being sized up and pulled himself up straighter. "They aren't the only ones lookin' for you. I ran into a pair out working for the blighted fairies."
"You what?"
"I told em to mind their own business, but that wasn't the last I saw of em. They say…" he hitched his thumbs in his sash and stared down at Slightly. "They say yer traveling with a ghoul."
"It's slightly not me!" the boy blurted immediately. Billy didn't move. His color was slowly fading down to that of wood ash.
"Why not you? It certainly explains a lot about you Lost Boys!" The knife was out. Slightly jerked back. "Certainly explains EVERYTHING about Peter Pan."
Slightly, unarmed, took to the air. "Don't talk about Peter! He hasn't got anything to do with this!" He shouted back, shuddered by memories of Peter with blood on his tongue.
"It's not Slightly." Billy interjected hoarsely. He hadn't moved. His eyes stared at the same patch of earth and his tendons looked ready to snap with the strain of staying still.
"Whaddaya mean it's not him?" He looked at the boy. "Who else are you with?"
Billy shook his head slowly. "No one."
"Then who?"
Billy looked up, startled. He was going to have to say it. Mullins understood the frightened, pained look is Billy's gaze a moment before the words left his mouth.
"It's me."